I decided to take Q on a secret mission to an undisclosed location one Saturday afternoon.
She put on one of her many shirts with attached cape, a very regular occurrence by both kids in our household, and we headed out the door.
When we arrived at said secret location, Q was delighted that she was there for a “Superhero Science” program: Discover the secrets behind superhero special powers with experiments and other hands-on activities.
Right up her alley!
She approached the table that housed a large selection of superhero books. I turned to the librarian and inquired, “Where are the ones about girl super heroes?”
They were “all checked out.” Right.
So as Q is browsing through the books waiting for the program to begin, a dad yells at her in a pretend thick accent “No capes!”
When she doesn’t respond, he yells it a few more times. Finally she turns around and says, “What?”
He says, you know, in the Incredibles when Edna designs new suits she tells Mr. Incredible that he absolutely cannot have a cape.
And I wanted to turn to him and ask “What jerk adult yells at a child not to wear capes when she is wearing one and then tells her that it’s not acceptable?!”
But instead I kept my mouth shut and thought to myself, “Whatever, jerk.”
So they began the program and the librarian begins asking who the kids’ favorite super heroes are. The boys are yelling out the obvious ones. When Q is asked, she thinks for a minute and then responds “Super Q.”
You see, my kids love imaginative play and I encourage it. And while they sometimes pretend to be ready-made characters, they also have several characters that are alter egos of themselves. That, my friends, is called using your own imagination.
She continues with “I have diabetes, so sometimes I am also Diabetes Girl. I have a favorite tree at school and when I climb it I can recharge my powers.”
I don’t think twice about this, but then jerk dad turns to me and holding up first one finger then two to further illustrate his question asks me “Type 1 or type 2?”
Now normally I might use this as an opportunity to educate and inform, but it was not the place nor time. We are in the middle of a program and he needs to just sit there and be quiet instead of blurting out answers to the librarian every time the kids aren’t quick enough to answer for themselves.
I wanted to respond, (a) does it matter, and (b) shut up. But I said “type 1” and turned back to the program.
You’ve seen Q. Would any halfway intelligent person look at my fit, thin six-year-old and think type 2? Really?
(That’s not a criticism of people with type 2 diabetes, but healthy six-year-olds just don’t get type 2.)
But the biggest reason I was irritated (because I was already irritated by him) was that it wasn’t really his business. It wasn’t relevant to the situation and he only asked because he was clearly self-important and just wanted to open his mouth…again.
The “no capes” part is at the end of this clip:
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